until my whole life could belong
by nubianamy
Summary: Prompt by kraken-with-a-plan for the Kurtofsky gift exchange: Kurt runs into Dave in New York. It's his senior year at NYADA and Adam is his best friend now. Kurt and Dave talk about what they've been up to since they lost touch. Prompt words/sentences: Red, Shakespeare, ink, blessing, "Not such a cub anymore, are you?"


_Prompt for the Kurtofsky gift exchange: Kurt runs into Dave in New York. It's his senior year at NYADA and Adam is his best friend now. Kurt and Dave talk about what they've been up to since they lost touch. Prompt words/sentences: Red, Shakespeare, ink, blessing, "Not such a cub anymore, are you?"_

_Author's note: This is my first Kurtofsky (if you don't count my inventive threesomes and moresomes). Warnings for size kink, outrageous romance, sexual play including fellatio, rimming and m/m intercourse, and safe sex dialogue. Thanks to Noel Turner for the Scrabble plays, and to songirl77 for writing Kurt's poem for me. The title, and inspiration for part of the story, are taken from Dar William's song "The Blessing," lyrics at the end._

* * *

**April 2016**

Kurt knew Adam wouldn't be interested in seeing the avant-garde production of _All's Well That Ends Well,_ but he invited him anyway, because that's what best friends did. It opened him up to a lengthy bout of teasing for liking "that contemporary mishmash," but Kurt didn't mind. Adam's predilection for making pointed, snarky comments was part of what Kurt had always liked most about him. That, and his excellent omelettes, made up for the fact that he had terrible taste in theater.

"You can't blame me for wanting my Shakespeare unadulterated," Adam protested, tapping the coffee grounds out on the edge of the compost bin. "None of that _accessible_ crap. Spare and stark, that's how it should be done, with words and gestures..." He made a sweeping gesture that turned into an awkward _riposte._ "You know what I mean."

"Mmm-hmm," Kurt said, not bothering to hide his grin. Kurt didn't object to Adam's preference for interminably boring three-hour plays, just as Adam didn't object to Kurt's monthly pilgrimage to the poetry enclave at the Crepuscule. "I'll be home late. You know how these contemporary performances are; the start time is just a suggestion. You might want to get your own dinner instead of cooking."

"Oh, I'll have something for you when you get back," Adam assured him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "I know what you like."

Adam did, and Kurt couldn't feel bad about it. For all that their romance had flattened into a pleasant undercurrent of flirty snuggling after a few months, he really was a perfect roommate. Kurt shoved the last bite of omelette into his mouth and pushed his chair out from the table. "I'm going to catch the early train. See you tonight after the show."

The train into downtown was the best part of Kurt's morning routine. He usually got a cappuccino at the stand outside the DeKalb Metro station, finding a seat on the train if he was lucky, and spent the next twenty to thirty minutes scribbling in his notebook. He didn't even have to pay attention to the time because the press of bodies would announce their arrival at the stop two blocks from NYADA. For that brief period every morning, Kurt was able to lose himself in a whirlwind of inspiration. It was more beneficial than caffeine to get his day started well.

The train on the way home wasn't nearly as good for writing, mostly because Kurt was usually drained of creative energy after a full day of classes, but he kept his notebook handy anyway. The metro was an endless source of people-watching, and while he wasn't much for writing fiction, he still wondered about people's stories. Today, though, he didn't take the L train home; instead he got on the Blue Line toward the Village, toward what passed for low-budget theater space in the city. He had a seat, at least, which gave him a space to surreptitiously watch and dream.

The guy with the bad haircut standing diagonally from him beside the rear door caught his attention. He was deep in his paperback, but Kurt couldn't see the title. It took him a few minutes to go from _huh, I wonder how long he's had that jacket,_ to _wait, I think I know him, _and finally to take a startled breath when he realized who it was.

Kurt stood, trying not to jostle the other passengers as he edged through the crowded car to pause beside the taller man. _Not so much taller, anymore, _he thought, trying to catch his eye.

"Dave," he said, finally. Dave Karofsky looked up from his book, more curious than hostile. When he saw Kurt, he broke into a wide, genuine smile that made Kurt laugh out loud.

"Oh, my god," he murmured, and moved to hug him without a second thought. Kurt hugged him back, feeling the lean, rangy muscle under the Detroit Redwings jacket. He wasn't a whole lot smaller than he had been in high school, but the shape of his body was different, along with something else Kurt couldn't identify.

"Kurt Hummel." He pulled back far enough to look him in the face, grasping his shoulders in obvious delight. "This is a big fucking city in which to accidentally run into you."

"I live in Bushwick, over in Brooklyn," Kurt said, smiling back, "but I'm in my last year at NYADA. I don't usually take this train. How long have you -?"

"Only a couple months," said Dave. "I just started at NYU in the winter. It's kind of awesome so far, though. But I thought you didn't get in? My intel was clearly faulty."

"No, no, you heard right. I moved out here to live with Rachel Berry, but then I kind of reapplied, and they wanted me."

Dave smirked, a reminder of his former self, but it didn't seem malicious. "You're living with _Berry? _Wow, that's a fate I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Not that you're that."

"She was actually a really nice roommate," he said honestly. The train leaned as it went around a curve, and the passengers leaned with it, Kurt taking a step forward as it shifted. Dave reached out to catch his elbow, forestalling any further collision, and Kurt blushed and moved away. "Um. So, no, not anymore. She moved out to live with someone else."

"Boyfriend?" Dave tucked the corner down in his book. Kurt could see the title now: _Petrarch's Canzoniere. _It wasn't the kind of reading he'd expected from Dave.

Kurt smiled, shaking his head. "Girlfriend. We think. It's not really clear, and I don't think even Rachel knows, sometimes, but..." He watched Dave's eyebrows climb higher on his tanned forehead, and laughed. "I know. Life takes some crazy turns."

"You're telling me," Dave agreed. He looked up at the announcement for Canal Street. "Where are you getting off? This is my neighborhood."

"You live in the Village?" Kurt shouldered his bag and gave Dave an admiring nod. "How'd you score that?"

"Oh, well." He waved his hand in a way that didn't seem at all self-conscious. "Advantages to my profession. Former profession. I can walk with you for a while?"

They filtered out onto Canal with several dozen other people who weren't paying any attention to them. Kurt, on the other hand, was scrutinizing Dave so closely that he bumped into the garbage can on the corner. Again, Dave reacted quickly, moving to shield him from passers-by. Kurt ducked away, laughing at himself. "Sorry. End of a long day."

"I think you could use a drink," Dave said, grinning. "If you do that."

"I do, but I actually have these tickets to a show." He hesitated, but the presence of _Petrarch's Canzoniere _in Dave's hands made it seem not quite so far fetched a question. "I don't suppose you like avant-garde theater?"

"Can't say I know much about it, but I'm willing to try anything once." Dave fell into step beside Kurt, who wondered how rude it would be to just start asking the questions that were piling up in his brain.

"You're not busy tonight? I'd hate to take you away from other plans."

Dave was still smiling as he shook his head. "Life of a single man. There'd be Friday night football waiting for me, and a complicated array of media choices, but whatever you can offer is bound to be more interesting. But what about you? Blaine couldn't make it tonight?"

"Blaine and I broke up years ago."

He looked genuinely shocked. "Oh - I guess I just assumed when you said _we,_ you meant... really?"

"Really," Kurt said emphatically. "It was hard being apart for a year after I graduated, and harder still when he came to New York. We still get together sometimes, but it's definitely better this way. No, my 'we' is my other ex, Adam. After Rachel moved out, he moved in. He's doing his best to reinforce the gay stereotype as a part-time waiter while he waits for callbacks." He grimaced, hurrying across the street just as the light changed. "I wish I could say he's doing any better than me at that. We're making ends meet, but when I graduate, I think he's planning to go back to England."

"Isn't living with your ex a little stressful?" Dave looked completely perplexed by Kurt's shake of his head. "Jeez. Maybe your exes aren't quite as crazy as mine."

Kurt laughed before he thought about it, then put a hand to his mouth. "I'm sorry, David - I didn't mean to imply -"

But Dave was laughing, too, not tentatively or anxiously, but a real laugh. Kurt wasn't sure he'd ever heard Dave sound like that. It was hard to stay worried when he seemed so much at ease. "No, no. Trust me, I could tell you stories. I don't know why you and Blaine broke up, but I bet the guys I dated would win in the crazy department."

"I'd love to hear those stories sometime." Kurt double-checked the flyer for the address, looking up and down the block, and finally noticed a couple going through an unassuming door up a narrow staircase. "Here's the theater. Please understand I'm not promising this is going to be any good."

"Who goes to the theater looking for a sure thing?" Dave held the door open for Kurt, then followed him inside.

It definitely wasn't a sure thing. There were moments during the show in which Kurt wasn't even sure it should qualify as Shakespeare, but Dave didn't appear to be disappointed by the experience.

"I don't think these are the original words," Kurt whispered between acts two and three. "I'm not feeling the familiar iambic pentameter rhythm thing."

"No, they took material from the original work," Dave whispered back. "The one Shakespeare based _All's Well_ on. I recognize it. We read Painter's translation of Boccaccio's _Decameron_ in my Renaissance Lit class."

Kurt lost track of the play for a few minutes after that, eyeing Dave sitting beside him. Whoever this was, it wasn't the same boy who'd left McKinley at the end of junior year. He had a fleeting urge to reach out and take his hand, and he wondered what Dave would do if he did.

When the lights came up and the applause ended, Dave turned to him. Before Kurt could say anything, he announced, "Wow, that was just about the worst thing I've ever seen."

Kurt sighed. "I'd like to agree with you, but I took a class in contemporary theater. Don't get me wrong, I _like_ contemporary theater, but... well, you should just take my word that there's worse stuff out there than this."

"That's a little appalling." Dave stood, stretching his hands high above his head and wincing. "I'm not sorry I ran into you, though. It was great to see you. Not to mention sit with you in one place for a couple hours without even one argument."

"Well, that might have something to do with us being silent - out of politeness, if not riveted by the scintillating plot." Kurt grinned as Dave laughed again.

"That sounds like a challenge. To get through a couple hours of talking without snapping at one another?" He raised an eyebrow. "Do you think we could do it?"

"It might be worth a try." Kurt could feel himself stepping in a little closer, opening his eyes a little wider. _You're flirting, _he told himself. It was almost embarrassing how much he was enjoying it. The fact that it was Dave Karofsky hardly mattered, because this man, this Dave, bore almost no resemblance to the boy with whom he'd gone to school. He took a deep breath. "We could attempt it over dinner?"

Dave nodded, unperturbed. "If you don't mind me having some final say about where we go. I'm on a kind of strict diet."

Kurt wasn't sure how to respond to that. Luckily, he had some time to think about it while Dave led him up the aisle and back out, through the milling spectators, toward the street. _You don't need to be on a diet. You're really not a chubby boy who sweats too much._ "You... what kind of diet?"

"It's really not so bad right now. I usually have to eat a crazy amount of food, just to keep up with the calorie output. My trainers, they're pretty specific during the season, but while I'm in school, I can lay off all the carbs." Dave moved away from the crowd, toward the street corner. "Right now I'm only working out once a day."

Kurt thought back over their conversation, wondering what he'd missed. "What are you training for?"

Dave turned around. His grin was curious. "For hockey. I've been playing pro hockey." He watched Kurt's face. "You didn't know that."

"No," Kurt admitted. "I don't really follow sports."

"Yeah, my senior year, we had a recruiter from the Red Wings come to the Academy, and he liked what he saw. I almost didn't play hockey at all after I transferred, but..." He shrugged. "Lucky I did, I guess."

Kurt tried to avoid stumbling off the curb as they walked, but it wasn't easy, what with all the curve balls Dave kept throwing him. "Oh, so you didn't go to school right away?"

"No, I deferred my scholarship and moved to Detroit instead. They wouldn't let me do both, not at the same time; I figured I could always go to school later. I'm a defenseman, so it can be kind of brutal." He rolled his shoulder, grimacing. "I did all right until last fall, when I got the injury. I guess you didn't know about that, either."

"No." Kurt watched Dave's hand touch his left shoulder, and his own hand went out of its own volition to touch it, too. Dave took a quick breath, but he didn't look away or try to move away from Kurt's hand. Kurt gave it a gentle squeeze. It felt as solid as a bag of sand. "Does it - are you okay?"

"I'm healing. It'll take a while before I can make it back on the ice. They said at least six months, but... I don't know." He moved his eyes to Kurt's hand, and Kurt withdrew it quickly. "I'm okay. So, dinner? You like sushi?"

Kurt did. They spent a few minutes huddled around his smartphone, finding a sushi place with good ratings. Kurt couldn't even pretend he didn't appreciate Dave's arms brushing up against him. It was like he couldn't help himself, going through all the steps he would usually take on a first date to get closer to a guy he liked. On the train, he deliberately told Dave a story about Rachel and Cassie that he'd told three times before, knowing it was funny, just so he could see Dave laugh again.

"So you're studying literature?" he asked. He held the strap from the ceiling loosely, letting himself bump up against Dave as the train rocked and swayed. Dave didn't seem to notice, steadying Kurt every now and then with a hand on his arm.

He looked a little embarrassed. "No, I'm just taking that class for fun, in place of the standard freshman lit class. I'm in the engineering program, but I'm not sure yet how I want to specialize."

Kurt found himself staring at Dave, listening to him talk about the differences between civil and mechanical engineering, while admiring the way his lips curved up a little when he said certain words, the movements of his eyes and hands. _Shameless,_ he had to reprimand himself, but he apparently wasn't going to listen to himself.

The sushi restaurant was packed more closely than the train. They ended up sitting at the bar, watching the chefs make their astonishing creations. There was Dave's hand, right there next to his, holding his cup of tea. Kurt watched the hand until it moved away, unzipping his jacket and sliding it off his shoulders, and - he choked a little on his tea.

"You okay?" Dave asked, a little concerned.

Kurt decided it would be better to say nothing, because _oh my god your arms_ was about all his brain could come up with. He was pretty certain he could never span Dave's bicep with his two hands, but _can I squeeze your muscles?_ was another thing he couldn't ask.

"What's that on your arm?" he finally managed.

Dave smiled wryly. "That's part of the crazy, I guess. Here." He pulled back on his right sleeve, revealing the lower edge of a tattoo. Even without seeing the whole thing, Kurt could tell it was an elaborate, photo-realistic tattoo of a bear. He reached up with one hand and pushed the sleeve up higher, trying to see more of - the tattoo. He was looking at the tattoo.

"My ex was a tattoo artist," said Dave. "He ran a studio in Royal Oak. I guess I can be thankful he was skilled, anyway. It would have sucked to end up with a _bad_ tattoo after a breakup."

"It's amazing," Kurt agreed. "Would you excuse me for a sec?"

Kurt scrambled off to the bathroom, where he locked himself in a stall and perched, fully clothed, on the edge of the toilet. The first thing he did was Google _david karofsky_ _red wings_ and read his Wikipedia page, wondering why the hell he hadn't heard about his accomplishments from Santana, or somebody. He paged through images of Dave on the ice, Dave raising a teammate's hand in jubilant victory, Dave mugging for the camera with three other guys at the bar. He looked completely at ease with himself.

He paused on a picture of Dave on a wagon festooned with rainbow flags, holding the hand of a strikingly beautiful man with wavy brown hair. Both were smiling and waving at the crowd. He looked at that picture for a long time.

The second thing Kurt did was to text Adam. _Would you put my dinner in the fridge? _he typed. _I'm eating sushi in the Village._

_Bring me home some unagi?_ Adam wrote back. _How was the show?_

_Terrible._ He added the words _I met a guy,_ then erased them and typed, _I ran into Dave Karofsky on the train. He thought the show was terrible too._

_Karofsky, _came the reply. _He's the one from high school? Gorilla suit?_

_Gorilla suit,_ he affirmed.

_Well, have a good dinner, then, and if you want me to clear out of the loft, let me know before eleven, okay? _

Kurt felt his ears burning as he tapped out a response. _Casual sex isn't in my vocabulary, Adam. Remember? It took us two months._

_Kurt, I'm pretty sure it doesn't count as casual if you've been in love with the guy for five years._

He stared at the screen. _What?_

_Tell me all those poems you wrote for the Corpuscle were really about Blaine. Go on. Or about me. _

_Crepuscule,_ he typed slowly. _It's symbolic of dawn and dusk, not of cells. _

_Are you listening to yourself? So, yeah, just let me know what you want to do. I can stay at Rachel and Cassie's. Don't forget my unagi._

When Kurt got back to the table, Dave had finished checking off his sushi choices on the menu and was doodling cartoon animals on the paper placemat. His smile was friendly and held no anxiety at all.

"I'm happy to share," he said, nodding at the menu. "Why don't you see what I've chosen and pick a couple you like, and we can mix them up."

Kurt read the menu without seeing it, checking boxes almost at random; his attention was really on the tattoo on Dave's arm, how he straightened his plate and cup and saucer so they were in front of him just so, the way he said his A's and I's. Dave's hair stuck up around his ears, and Kurt resisted an urge to smooth it down.

"When did you come out?" he interrupted. He didn't even know what Dave had been talking about, but whatever it was, he stopped and looked at Kurt, a little startled.

"Um... I don't know, maybe three years ago?" He thought about it, then shook his head. "After Jason Collins - he was a pro football player, you might not know - he came out in 2013. Then the NHL formed a partnership with this organization, You Can Play, stating publicly that gay players would be welcome? And a bunch of my teammates and I were talking one night, and they were all saying they wouldn't care who was gay, and I just thought - this is my chance, it's never going to be more ordinary than right now. So I told them. And they were all fine with it."

Kurt smiled. "That's... god, David, that's really wonderful. I guess I'm still thinking about you as the scared, closeted high school student from junior year."

"You might remember I came out kind of suddenly my senior year, huh? Not even intentionally or anything." Kurt couldn't see one ounce of bitterness or shame on Dave's face as he talked about it. "After the suicide attempt, I really gave up on the idea that I had to be a certain way. I didn't have a lot of close friends at the Academy, but the ones who stuck around after that, we're all still friends. I got lucky." He smiled at Kurt. "You helped a lot."

"I wasn't sure if I did. I think I was hoping we could be closer friends." _Apparently. Or something else, according to Adam. God._

"Yeah, well. I still had this crazy crush on you, if you'll recall." Dave's embarrassed grin was completely adorable, and Kurt smiled helplessly back. "I wasn't ready to be your friend at that point, no matter how much you were ready to be mine. I needed a little time to get over you. By the time I managed that, I was involved in training with the Red Wings, so... I'm sorry about that. You were so nice to me, and I was just... well, kind of a mess, and I never got a chance to tell you how much I appreciated what you did for me."

Kurt tried not to let the guilt overwhelm him. "It's all in the past, David," he said briskly, and handed the menu to the waitress. "Could I get an order of unagi to go, please?"

Dinner came and went, but Kurt felt like he was just starting to unravel this human being inside the hockey jacket. He listened to Dave talk about living in Detroit, and being on the road with the team, and the intensity of working out twice a day and playing a game every day during the season. When he ordered more tea, and later dessert, Dave didn't show any sign of wanting to leave.

There was no detail too small about him that didn't seem fascinating to Kurt, which might explain how he noticed the mark on the inside of Dave's arm. "What's that?" he asked, reaching out to touch the curving line that extended from under Dave's bicep.

It was almost a flinch, the way Dave reacted. For a second, Kurt thought he looked scared. But then he rotated his arm out with an apologetic smile, revealing more of the line. "It's another tattoo. I don't... most people don't notice it. It's kind of hidden." He raised his arm above his head, pulling the sleeve of his t-shirt down to show the rest of it.

Kurt leaned in with a little _oh._ It wasn't Dave's impressive bicep that was holding his attention this time. It was the magnificently detailed peacock feather, running into the space under Dave's arm. Dave watched Kurt, looking wary.

"It's incredible," he breathed. "That... wow, that really had to hurt."

"Yeah, it really did," Dave agreed. "But that was kind of the point, actually."

When Dave didn't elaborate, Kurt prompted, "Why this? And why here? Nobody can see it."

"Exactly. It was... well, there was me, the public me. The jock, the hockey player. I was the bear cub. On the outside, right? But there was this other me, that nobody got to see except my boyfriend - who turned out to be a cheating jerk, but that was later. At the time, I felt like he was the only one who saw me, the hidden me. The one that was a little... well, you know. Fancy." Dave's smile tightened. "At the time it was a lot harder to claim that part of me. This was the way I did it."

Kurt struggled to keep his heart from racing out of control. Dave, this close, being this vulnerable - and, okay, the arm thing was totally doing it for him. He swallowed.

"I'd really like to see it," he said. "The tattoo. Up close."

Dave opened his mouth and blinked, shut it again. Then he turned to the counter and raised his hand. "Could we get the check, please?"

Kurt sat back a little, trying to gather his thoughts, but Dave was already leaning in, bringing his face close enough to make Kurt's head swim. "My apartment's not too far from here. You could..." His eyes moved from Kurt's mouth, to his eyes, and back again. "I'm not trying to make too many assumptions here, but you'd be welcome to come over. For a little while, or... whatever."

"Whatever." Kurt laughed, hearing it come out high and nervous. "David, I don't do things like this."

"It doesn't have to be a _thing_, Kurt," Dave insisted. "You're not going to get any pressure from me. But this has been really nice, talking to you. We can keep doing that. And... well, there's more to the story of the feather, if you want to hear it."

Kurt let himself look into Dave's eyes, holding them, showing him - _something,_ he didn't know what, of what he was feeling. Dave's responding smile was gentle and pleased. That, more than anything, was what led Kurt to nod his head.

They didn't touch on the walk to Dave's place, and few words were exchanged, but Kurt was surprised to discover it didn't feel strange. This was still the man he'd spent the evening with, the one who'd been an absolute gentleman. Even when Kurt had flirted, Dave had kept his cool. He'd let Kurt take it at his own pace, have his minor freak-out, and come to a decision. He had to admit, the way Dave was behaving was more than appealing. It was admirable.

"Thank you," he said, as Dave unlocked his front door. Dave turned to Kurt in curiosity.

"For what?"

"For everything tonight. And for coming to that terrible play with me."

Dave laughed, switching on the light. He set Kurt's take-away unagi on the table in the center of the big kitchen. "Well, I guess I was going with the rule, if a gorgeous guy asks you to the theater, you go. Even if they pretty much slaughtered the Shakespeare, I was glad to be there."

_You think I'm gorgeous?_ was the obvious response, but Kurt wasn't going to indulge himself by asking. But he did smile, moving in a little closer. "I was glad it was you who said yes. I mean..." He sighed, closing his eyes. "I don't know what I mean."

"Hey," Dave said softly. He reached out, gently touched Kurt's arm, just two fingertips along his shoulder down to the elbow. Kurt's skin tingled where Dave touched him. "There's no script here."

He tried to get control of his reactions, which felt way out of proportion to the situation. "I just think this is inordinately reckless of me. No matter how sweet you've been, I don't... come home with strange guys."

Dave shook his head, smiling. "Kurt, I'm not a stranger. You know me."

"That's the thing, though. Do I? I know your name, I know what you look like, but the rest seems to be completely different than the guy I remember." He hugged his elbows, watching Dave's face. "I don't know what to expect from you."

"But that's not all of it, either, is it? You always did see more than I let anybody else see. Maybe you didn't realize it, but I could tell. You knew I was better. That I was worth something, even when I didn't know it myself." Dave took a step back from Kurt, taking his jacket off, and hung it on the back of the kitchen chair. Then he reached up with both arms and hauled the t-shirt off as well.

"Oh -" Kurt said, "um, I..."

"You said you wanted to see it." Dave held Kurt's startled gaze, pulling him in with a gentle smile. Whether he wanted to or not - and, okay, honestly, he absolutely did - he could see Dave's body now, every detail right there in plain sight.

Dave hadn't lost any weight, but what weight there was had been redistributed, his shoulders broader, his chest thicker, his back fully defined. Kurt found himself fixating on the sparse hair on Dave's pecs, the movement of the muscles under his skin of his stomach. It was so much hotter than he was prepared to deal with.

"David," he began, trying to come up with a polite way to say _I should probably go now, _but Dave raised his arm behind his head, revealing the entire peacock feather, and Kurt was drawn in despite himself. It really was beautiful.

"Do you want to know why I really have this tattoo?" Dave traced the shape of it with his own finger, from the base of the stem all the way up into the plume, where the colors glistened with iridescence. Kurt followed his finger with his eyes. He nodded wordlessly, and Dave went on, watching Kurt the whole time. "What I told you was true. But I wasn't thinking about that when I chose the feather, or the location for the tattoo. I was thinking about you."

"About - me." Kurt could barely get enough breath out to say the words.

"Yeah. For a long time, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I'd like to say not in a creepy way, but... it was a little obsessive, what I was feeling. You made it clear to me in high school that that wasn't welcome. I tried to keep my distance, to not bother you with my crush, but that didn't change anything for me." He let his arm drop to his side. "The tattoo, it was in a painful place. I wanted it that way because the feelings I was having were painful. And it was hidden from the rest of the world because I wasn't ready to share that part of myself with anyone. Even the guy who did the tattoo. But it was still... gorgeous." The last word was spoken as a whisper, but Kurt felt it deep inside his gut.

"David," he said again, and stopped.

Dave sighed, long and slow. "I kind of can't believe I'm telling you all this, but... I think it's time you knew."

Kurt nodded, his throat dry. "Ancient history, right?"

Dave's smile was wistful. "No," he said. "That's what I'm trying to say. Tonight... I don't know if you thought this was going to be a hookup, or a friendly visit, or... whatever you were intending, I need you to know how I feel. About you. How I still feel." He took a step back, reaching for his shirt. "This... I never expected to see you like this, Kurt, but now that I have, it's clear to me I'm still feeling everything I was feeling five years ago. I can't pretend to be your friend - or your one night stand - any more than I could have then. I just had to make sure you knew that."

Kurt watched Dave put his shirt back on while he wrestled with his own conflicting feelings. Disappointment was battling with lust for top billing, but there were a whole host of others waiting to be examined. One thing was clear: he needed time and space to consider them.

"Thank you," he said. "I'm so glad I saw you tonight, David. And I'd really like to stay in touch... oh."

Kurt trailed off as Dave stepped in, close enough for Kurt to feel the heat radiating from his body. His chest was solid, as solid as the table beside which they stood. It was impossible to tell whether the way he smelled was his cologne or just his natural scent, but it was heady and compelling. All the sensations were almost overwhelming, but before Kurt could react, Dave was sliding his fingers into the tight back pocket of Kurt's jeans and retrieving his cell phone.

"I'm giving you my number," he said, typing it in. "But I don't want you to call me just to hang out. Or mess around. I want what I wanted from you when I came to you in that stupid gorilla costume." He put the phone into Kurt's hands, closing them around it, holding them there for a moment. "I want you to give me a chance. A real one."

Kurt clutched at the phone, holding it to his chest, and stumbled back, pressing his lips together before stammering out a pithy goodbye and hurrying out the door. He was already two blocks away before he remembered Adam's unagi on Dave's kitchen table, but there was no way he was going to go back and retrieve it. It was for the same reason he hadn't given Dave a proper goodbye: he knew exactly what would happen if Dave touched him. But he'd heard what Dave had told him, loud and clear. _Unless you want what I want, don't waste my time._

_I could use a hug,_ he texted Adam, _and a listening ear._

_I'll do you one better, love. It'll be waiting for you on the table when you get home. _

Kurt could smell it when he walked in the door, the hot chocolate blending perfectly with the kahlua and Bailey's. He took a deep breath and let it out, slumping onto the couch. Adam set the drink on the coffee table and took a seat beside him, letting Kurt lean against him.

"How long have you known?" Kurt asked after a moment. "That the poems were about David?"

Adam clasped his arm companionably. "Since you told me the whole story about him, I think. Hey, you never told me he was _the_ Dave Karofsky. With the Redwings? The gay hockey player?"

"I didn't even know he was still playing hockey." Kurt squeezed his eyes shut against the tears, and sniffed. Adam leaned over and snagged a tissue from the box, and Kurt took it gratefully. "God. I can't believe this. I can't be freaking out about David."

"Why not? He's lovely. I can see what you see in him."

"No, you don't," he insisted. "Adam, _I_ didn't see what I saw in him. Until tonight. Whatever I was feeling, I had no idea I was - but apparently I _was,_ because you knew the poetry was about him." He wiped his eyes and blew his nose. "That Valentine's Day, I told him no, I wanted to be with Blaine. But apparently that wasn't true?"

"Hey, you can't second-guess yourself five years later." Adam pulled him in tighter, squeezing his shoulder. "Don't blame yourself for what you said. Just think about what you want now."

Kurt shook his head miserably. "How am I supposed to know what that is?"

"Do what you always do." Adam gestured at the notebook on the table. "Go write. Ask your Corpuscle friends to give you feedback."

"_Crepuscule,"_ Kurt sighed, but he could see the grin on Adam's face. He gave him a shove. "You're such a -" Then he grabbed him and hugged him hard, burying his face in Adam's neck.

"Yeah," murmured Adam, hugging him back. "You, too, love."

* * *

True to its name, the Crepuscule was open in the morning and the evening, but closed during lunch. This particular poetry enclave wasn't exactly a club but, they reserved an area in the back beside the couches, providing a degree of privacy for the sensitive souls who were there to read the words of their hearts. With a few exceptions, it was the same crowd every month: a mixture of locals and students, old and young, men and women. Kurt liked it that way. The only rules were: 1) share only your own words, and 2) don't laugh at another's pain.

Having a consistent crowd from month to month meant most of them were familiar with Kurt's earlier contributions. So when he set his notebook down at the central table and announced, "I have a problem," more than one of them nodded wisely, already having a sense of what Kurt might need to talk about.

"Boy trouble?" suggested Selma. She tapped her long fingernails against her mug of black coffee, her thick Brooklyn accent raspy with cigarette smoke.

"Sort of? Not exactly? I don't know." Kurt sighed. "There was a boy, in high school, who loved me. I told him I didn't love him, but now... I'm wondering."

Mark sat forward, looking curious. "Was this the gorgeous teenage dream or the guy with the chocolates? I'd stick with the first one, myself."

Kurt was going to say _but Dave's pretty gorgeous, himself,_ but he held off. "The chocolates, I suppose. I mean, I didn't realize that anybody else would know who the poems were about, but my ex figured it out."

"And now you miss him and you want him back?" asked Audrey, passing the napkin holder down the table toward Mark. She seldom said much, but her insights were good.

"I think I never consciously thought about going after him. But then he showed up, and... he wasn't the same as he used to be. He's grown up." Kurt pictured the peacock feather, and Dave's finger tracing it, and he shivered. The others watched with rapt fascination.

"So you have a piece for us?" Selma prompted.

Kurt opened his notebook, cleared his throat, and began to read:

_Loose leaf and longing, feathers blow  
__in the breeze, tickle tree tops and  
__don't stop until they've kissed the  
__sky. Lost, I collect these scattered  
__pages, these quiet rages and  
__long-held songs, mosaic my  
__way to something impossibly  
__beautiful, but cannot find the  
__glue. Enter: You.  
__Take them, all  
__as they fall. Piece them together  
__and trim wayward pages,  
__verses seamed by strong  
__stitches, small sutured wishes,  
__hem of hope._

There was a collective sigh, and a smattering of applause. Kurt smiled his thanks.

"Are you going to share the poems with him?" Audrey asked quietly.

"I don't know. He told me not to call him at all unless I was ready to try with him."

"Try - what? A relationship?" Kurt nodded, and Selma shrugged. "Well, why not?"

"There are a lot of reasons why D- why he and I should not be in a relationship," Kurt said emphatically.

Mark frowned. "I thought you just said he wasn't the same as he used to be."

"Well, no, but -"

"So why can't you try it with him now? What have you got to lose?"

Kurt closed his eyes. "Because I broke his heart, before. When I said no to him, he... attempted suicide. I know it wasn't because of me that he did it, exactly, but..."

No one would attempt to interfere with Kurt's grief, any more than they would have laughed at his words. They didn't touch him or offer hugs; they just waited for him to stop crying and continue.

"And you think he would do that again?" asked Selma. "If it didn't work out?"

Kurt shook his head slowly. "No. He's not... he's stronger than that now. I think he's happy. I don't think anything I could do would really damage him."

"So what's the problem?" Mark stared severely at him. "Girl, some people would kill for a chance like this. You're nuts if you say you're not going to take it because it could go badly. This boy got a _tattoo_ because of you. That ain't something somebody does lightly. And he's still carrying that same torch he was five years ago? For Christ's sake, just go for it."

His eyes closed, flinching away from Mark's vitriol. It was too much to handle. He couldn't think about what he wanted when it was so tangled up in the guilt and shame and fear he felt about the old Dave - and desire and admiration for the new one. _Which one is real? Can I take the pieces of the old and the new and make a mosaic of them?_

Then he felt a soft hand on his knee, and he opened his eyes again to see Audrey beside him, watching him intently.

"I don't think we can help you with this, Kurt," she said. "But I think _he_ can. Go talk to him."

He realized he was nodding, and his cell phone was in his hand. He called up the number Dave had typed in for him, standing to move to a quiet corner as he did so. Dave picked up on the second ring.

"Kurt," he said, clearly amazed. Then he laughed. "I - might have been sitting around not staring at the phone for the last couple of days."

"Yes, well, I might have been here at my monthly poetry reading, getting talked into calling you." He shook his head, smiling, because talking to Dave was awkward, and a little painful - and so exactly what he wanted to be doing. He took a deep breath.

"David, I still don't know what I feel. I wish I could say I was as certain as you are about what I want. But I do know I never stopped thinking about you, either, in all these years. And as terrified as I am that I might hurt you again, I think you might be in a place where you could handle honesty from me. You seem... strong." He growled at his own blush. "Inside, I mean. And... okay, yes, outside too."

"Yeah, I saw you noticing that part." He could hear the amusement in his voice, and it made him blush even harder. "You're allowed to look. I'm really glad you want to. I just wanted to be clear that that's not all I want."

"I understand. Knowing that is a little terrifying." He hugged himself around his own waist with one arm, leaning into the phone as his voice dropped. "But I think I might want more than that, too."

"I'm really... _really_ glad to hear that." Dave sounded a little hoarse. "You want to come over and we can figure out what happens next? Or would it be better to stick with a public place?"

"David, you've been a perfect gentleman. I'm not worried about that." Kurt squirmed at his own reaction to Dave's words. The idea of being at his apartment, where things of a non-public nature could happen, was ridiculously compelling. "I can't promise _I _won't try something, though."

"That'd be okay... god, Kurt, that would definitely be okay. Do you remember where I live?"

Kurt mumbled something about _be there as soon as I can,_ but he stood there staring at his silent phone for several minutes afterwards. His thighs were trembling, and he was more turned on as he could remember being in months, and he couldn't erase the smile from his face.

"Worth a try, Kurt," called Mark, grinning at him as he gathered up his things. "Think of it this way: in another month, you'll either have material for a new angsty poem, or you'll have a boyfriend."

The metro ride to the Village was interminably slow. Kurt didn't even bother to open his notebook; he just sat there clutching it to his chest, staring at nothing, imagining Dave sitting at his kitchen table, and wondered what the hell he thought he was doing. The whole way, as he stumbled off the train and walked the three blocks to Dave's brownstone, he could feel the pressure of his choice, driving him ahead, giving him chills. _There's a man waiting for you,_ it said, _and he feels something for you. And you might feel something for him, too. Maybe you have, all along._

He stood outside Dave's door, eying the buzzer nervously, until he was startled by Dave's voice over the intercom, saying, "Just come in, Kurt. I promise, it'll be okay."

Kurt reached out and took the handle of the door, pulling it open as the remote lock disengaged with a harsh vibrating whine. When he got up to the second floor, Dave was waiting in the hallway, holding the door open for him.

"I made popcorn," he said, "and set up the Scrabble board. To give us something to do, while we talk." He held up his hands with a disarming smile. "No pressure, okay?"

Kurt didn't even bother to shut the door before his arms were around Dave's waist, hugging him tight. Dave made a startled, pleased noise, and then Kurt felt Dave's hands settle on him, one on his back and the other on his head, cradling him in warmth and strength.

"Or... we could do this?"

Kurt leaned in, rubbing his face against Dave's broad chest. He couldn't even get his arms around him; it was like hugging the trunk of a tree. _Only a tree trunk wouldn't have a branch sticking out __**there,**_he thought in a daze, trying not to grind up against him. Dave wasn't taking advantage of Kurt's closeness, so he figured it was polite of him not to either.

"We can play Scrabble," he said, pulling back to look up at Dave. "I just - I had to do that. Because you're really sweet, and I love - it. I really... love it. Thank you."

Dave's smile was broad and bright. "You're welcome." He brought one tentative hand up around to touch Kurt's face, cupping his cheek. "Is this all right?"

"Yes," Kurt sighed, keeping his eyes open, "yes, it's all right. Please."

For a moment, Kurt was certain Dave would kiss him, but he just stood there, gazing at Kurt's face like it was the most incredible thing he'd ever seen. Kurt was pretty sure no one had ever looked at him quite like that - not Blaine, not Adam, certainly not any of the men he'd attempted to date since then. It was a heady feeling, and he drank it in, letting himself feel Dave's amazement and wonder.

"Can I pour you a glass of wine?" Dave glanced over at the counter, where Kurt could see a couple reds and one white. "I was guessing you weren't a beer drinker."

"Not usually. I still don't drink much, at all, but I would have a glass of wine on a first date, and this is kind of like that."

Dave smiled. "No, we had our first date. You asked me to the theater, and we had dinner. So this is our second date: Scrabble and popcorn and wine at my place. Better watch out, I'm kind of awesome at Scrabble."

"Hey, don't hold back on my account. I'm fully intending to win. I'll even concede the first move to you."

Kurt sat down in the proffered chair while Dave poured the wine, taking the opportunity to admire the way his back looked in the reasonably stylish button-down shirt he was wearing. Kurt thought Dave's steady patience might be having the opposite effect Dave was intending it to have. Instead of relaxing him, it was winding him up, making him want Dave _more. _He sighed, trying to calm his libido, and smiled as Dave handed him his glass. The wine was smooth and full-bodied.

"You never did tell me the rest of the story about your crazy boyfriend," said Kurt. He dug in the bag of Scrabble tiles and pulled out seven. "That might be an appropriate thing to share on a second date?"

"Oh, you really want to hear it?" Dave shook his head, laying out QUIET on the center of the board. "Well... Leo wasn't the first guy I dated, but he made all the right moves, and pretty soon he was coming with me when the team traveled for games, and pretty soon after _that_ he invited me to move in with him. He was hot and reckless and I was completely crazy about him."

Kurt remembered the man holding Dave's hand in the picture he'd seen on the 'net. _And he looked like me,_ he realized. It made him feel oddly vindicated. "I bet. How long were you together?"

"A little over two years." Dave watched Kurt with wide eyes as he used all his tiles on the triple word to spell NASTIEST off the T in QUIET. "Damn, Hummel, you weren't kidding."

"Not pulling punches, David," he replied serenely, scribbling his score onto the paper Dave had set on the table. "So what happened?"

"With Leo? You can probably guess. Six weeks after I moved in, he started making moves on other guys." Dave grimaced, poking at his tiles. "One of them was on my team."

"Ouch."

"Tell me about it," he agreed. He placed the word TROUNCE over two different double word scores. "The first time I came home to find Leo in our bed with some stranger, we ended up screaming at each other for two hours before he persuaded me to give him another chance."

Kurt placed JADED on the end of TROUNCE. "The _first_ time?"

"Yeah. I'm not proud of it. I do stupid stuff when I'm in love." Dave's eyes closed momentarily. "You've seen me do it."

"You're not doing anything stupid now," Kurt pointed out. ZEALOT crossed JADED perfectly, hitting the triple letter square with the Z. Dave smiled in admiration.

"No. I'm... well. I'm trying really hard not to make the same mistakes again. Hell, there are plenty of new mistakes for me to make." Dave gathered up all his letters and laid them out across the bottom of the board, using the T in ZEALOT and overlapping both triple word squares to spell out STEADIER.

"Hey!" Kurt stared at the tiles in mock outrage. Dave's smile deviated into a smirk as he took another sip of wine.

"Told you I was good at this. So, yeah, the second time, I said forget this, I'm leaving. Which is especially awkward when you're living in your boyfriend's place, and he kicks you out, and it's raining." He shrugged. "Azimio saved my ass, but he wasn't all that nice about it."

"I'm glad he came for you, though. I wasn't sure he was going to be a friend who stuck around." Kurt frowned as he placed AX on the double letter.

"You weren't the only one. But he was the only friend I could reach." Dave leaned on his arms, watching Kurt with a little smile. "Anyway, it sucked for a while, but it turned out to be a blessing, you know?"

"Why's that?"

He gestured across the table. "Because if Leo were the one still playing Scrabble and drinking wine with me, I wouldn't have had a chance to do it with you. That would have been a shame."

Kurt couldn't keep from smiling back. "Your logic's a little shaky, David. But it's a very sweet sentiment."

"Yeah. Still a romantic; what can I say." Dave glanced down at the table, then back up at Kurt, so artlessly hopeful that Kurt's heart gave a little desperate leap. _And those eyes are going to be the death of me._ He watched Dave destroy his lead with OTARINE.

"What in God's name is an otarine?"

"Hell if I remember. Something like a sea lion. It's one of those Scrabble words you have to know, that you can make with the RETINA combination." Dave seemed to realize the way Kurt was looking at him, and he looked away quickly, his cheeks pink as he dug in the bag for replacement tiles. "What?"

"I'm thinking we might finish this game later," Kurt murmured. "You're hitting my word geek fetish pretty hard."

"Oh, is that right?" Dave let his hand drop to the table, and his eyes flashed, his lips moist and parted. "I honestly didn't know you had one of those, or I would have suggested we play something a little less incendiary."

Kurt let his eyes flutter shut for a moment. "Now you're doing it on purpose."

"Yeah," Dave admitted. He pushed his chair out and stood, waiting until Kurt did the same before walking around to take his hand. "Come with me? Please?"

Kurt couldn't even feel anything but anticipation as Dave led him through the ridiculously large apartment, down the hall to a room with a king-sized bed. _Dave's bedroom,_ he thought, and attempted to adjust himself subtly with his free hand. Dave reached for his hip, drawing him in close enough for them both to feel how much they both wanted this.

"In an attempt to continue doing this right," said Dave, tracing Kurt's jaw with one finger, "I should say that I get tested every six months, and I'm clean. And I haven't done anything with anybody since the last test. The test report's in the nightstand, if you want to read it."

He nodded, feeling Dave's touch on his face in a myriad of places on his body. "Admirable once again, David. I'm likewise clean." He tilted his chin up. "_And_ I'm not planning on doing anything involving anything but incidental fluid transfer without condoms, regardless."

"A good plan." Dave brushed his hair back from his face, letting his hand rest for a moment on Kurt's cheek. "God, you are so fucking beautiful."

The words hit like a blow below the belt, and Kurt sucked in a breath in reaction. He would have staggered if Dave hadn't held him secure, his hand on Kurt's hip.

Dave shook his head. "You've got to know I think that. Right?"

"I'm... it's mutual. Really." Kurt reached up, winding both hands around Dave's neck, pulling him down to kiss him, at last, again. _Our second kiss. _This one lasted a lot longer than the first had, and this time neither of them were pushing the other away. Kurt listened to Dave's quiet groan with a thrill of desire. "You..." He ran both palms down Dave's chest, across his nipples and back up again, feeling him shudder. "You're perfect."

"Kurt," he whispered, and kissed him again, harder this time. Kurt could feel the power in Dave's arms tightening around him, the ease with which Dave shifted him backward toward the bed. It could have been frightening, if it had been anyone but Dave, but that's exactly who it was. He hovered solemnly, pausing there above Kurt. "This would be a good moment to tell me to slow down."

"David, I've been waiting for this for years." Kurt hadn't even known that was going to come out of his mouth, that admission. He watched Dave's eyes widen, and pressed forward. "I don't know if I'll ever have the courage to share it with you, but I've been writing desperate, angst-ridden poetry about you for the past three years, refusing even to admit it was about you to anyone. But it was. I'm not even sorry, I'm just so - so glad to be here. In your bed."

Dave's hands tightened on him as his breath came faster. "You want to be in my bed, Kurt?"

"I was kind of counting on it." Kurt glanced over at the amount of bed that lay beside them, and gave Dave a little push. He knew there was no way he was a better wrestler than him. It was enough of a suggestion, though, that Dave let him flip him, Kurt straddling his hips. Now there was no question of who was turned on, or how much, and they both let out a gasp as Kurt dragged his cock along the inside of Dave's thigh. "Oh - fuck, _David."_

"Is that what you want to do?" Dave gazed up at Kurt and dropped his hands to cup Kurt's ass. "You want to fuck me?"

_I'm an equal opportunity lover,_ he could have said, but as he felt Dave's hands gripping his thighs, all he could do was plead, "You, god - I want you to fuck me."

Dave's fingers pressed with firm intention against the seam of Kurt's jeans, right into the cleft of his ass, and Kurt cried out. Dave's face was flushed, but his eyes were clear. "Not too fast for a second date?"

Kurt surged forward to kiss him again, his entire weight feeling inconsequential against Dave's solid bulk. "David, you've been in my head for five years, doing all kinds of things to me. I think I've waited long enough."

"Then maybe it wouldn't be too forward of me to say I was really hoping you'd want that?" This time Dave didn't just roll him over, he _lifted_ him into the air, one hand behind his neck, and laid him down reasonably gently upon the bed. The way he knelt over Kurt, one hand next to his face, leaning in to kiss him, made it so much hotter. Kurt found himself grinding on Dave's leg, propped between his thighs, whining as he struggled to unzip his jeans. "But, honestly, Kurt, I can't think of anything I'd deny you, if you said you wanted it, so... don't hesitate to ask."

"I'll do my best." He stripped the jeans off his legs while Dave waited and watched, Dave's hand lightly rubbing the outline of his own cock through his pants - which was not exactly giving him a chance to think more clearly. He wasn't even sure he wanted a chance. It had been years since he'd felt safe enough to lose himself in passion like this. _Since that time in the car at Mr. Schue's wedding, with Blaine,_ he realized. But this wasn't just two friends helping get each other off. He paused again when he got to his briefs. "Shall I keep going?"

"I want to watch you," Dave said, his voice low and rough. Kurt nodded, lifting up his hips to slide the briefs off, while Dave groaned under his breath and gripped himself more firmly. Kurt reached out to place a hand over his.

"May I?"

Dave nodded, and groaned again when Kurt shifted forward, pressing his mouth to the bulge in his pants, breathing hot breath through the fabric. He felt Dave's immediate response. "Oh, fuck, Kurt."

"Not such a cub anymore, are you?" murmured Kurt, and then paused, closing his eyes as his cheeks flamed. "I - can't believe I actually said that."

"Believe me, I've thought at least a dozen more embarrassing things in the last five minutes." Dave's hand moved to rest on the back of Kurt's head, not forcing or even pushing, just cupping it. "I don't think you could actually say anything wrong. You, in this position... you could read me the Wall Street Journal and it would probably get me off."

"Yeah. Read to you... that's not exactly what I want to do, in this position." He rubbed his cheek against the thick heat of Dave's erection. Looking up at him, watching Dave's incredulous, lust-blown eyes, made him feel powerful. "I suppose I could read you my ridiculous poetry, if you'd prefer that, but..."

Dave laughed, sounding a little shaky. "I would love that. Really, I would. And I also want... other things. I hope you're not going to make me choose."

"We can start with this," Kurt assured him. He reached for Dave's zipper, unfastening the hook and letting his pants drop to his knees. Dave was already unbuttoning his shirt, and by the time Kurt slid his hands around to cup Dave's unbelievably well-muscled ass, his chest was bare.

"Trying not to feel completely outclassed, here," said Dave, shaking his head as his other hand came around to stroke Kurt's shoulder. Kurt stared at him.

"Forgive me, David, but that's just plain ridiculous. Aren't you the one who's playing pro sports? Your body literally amazes me."

"I think I know you well enough to actually believe you mean _literally_ when you say _literally."_ Dave was flushing, but he also wasn't letting Kurt's head go, and when Kurt tugged Dave's boxer briefs down off his thighs, he felt Dave's subtle encouragement. Kurt smiled speculatively.

"_Small_ isn't in your repertoire, is it? I'm not actually sure if I'm going to be able to fit that in my mouth."

"Don't feel obligated." Dave's voice was tense, but Kurt knew he wasn't going to force anything. Kurt's smile broadened.

"Oh, trust me, it's no obligation." He licked his lips. "A challenge, perhaps, but... I do love a challenge."

"There's that... fluid transfer thing," Dave added. He raised an eyebrow at Kurt, who gazed back coolly.

"A minimally risky activity, assuming this is not your endgame, David. Trust me, I've done my research."

Kurt did his best to keep his jaw relaxed as he took Dave into his mouth. It had been a while, but the sounds that came tumbling out of Dave in response were so worth it. Kurt found himself making muted echoes of Dave's noises, building steadily with each thrust into his throat. The longer it went on, the more closely his own sensations clamored for attention, until suddenly he heard Dave gasp out, "Wait, stop -" and Kurt was shocked to have to fight for control, squeezing his own hand tight around himself to avoid shooting all over Dave's leg.

He let Dave's cock rest against his cheek, panting a little from exertion and adrenaline, because _oh god._ "That was, um. Really hot."

"Yeah." Dave sounded uneven, like he might still lose it any second. He took slow, deep breaths, stroking his fingers through Kurt's hair, and Kurt couldn't even bring himself to protest. "I... yeah. Wow. I think I need a second to calm down."

_I almost made him come in my mouth_ was the predominant thought, and Kurt thrilled to the heady flush of control. "I did express a preference for a slightly different outcome, but... if you wanted that instead, I could probably be persuaded."

Dave coughed. "What was that you said about fluid transfer, Kurt?"

"No, I mean... you could, um." He took another breath. "Come on my face."

Kurt heard Dave whimper as he clutched at the back of his neck. "Holy shit. I can't believe how fucking hot that is. You want that?"

"I never have before," Kurt admitted, feeling dizzy, "but oh god, yes, I want that."

Dave's most minute tugs of his hand were enough to draw Kurt up from between Dave's legs to rest on top of him. "I think... I really need to kiss you a lot right now."

Kurt was more than happy to oblige that desire, too. He squirmed a little against Dave's hip, but feeling his arms, the mass of Dave holding him in place with almost zero effort, was monumentally comforting. He found himself relaxing in Dave's embrace, focusing on the connection of their mouths and skin. When Dave curled a loose hand around his cock, he was able to enjoy it without feeling pressured into a particular outcome.

"This is okay?" Dave murmured, his lips on Kurt's jaw.

"This is... so okay." Kurt glanced at the nightstand. "But I think I'm going to get some of that lube you have over there. All right?"

Dave kissed him again. "You think you might let me help with that?"

Kurt settled up against Dave's headboard, propping up a pillow to give himself enough support to be able to see him kneeling between his legs. Dave was still giving him that same expression of tender care and frank admiration. Kurt wasn't exactly sure what it meant, that he was so desperately loving Dave looking at him that way, but he was trying not to question it too much in the moment.

Dave pressed a series of kisses to Kurt's abdomen before striping his fingers with lube. He smiled shyly up at Kurt. "I, um... I find this part feels better with a little extra stimulation."

"Oh," was all Kurt could say, before Dave's tongue was teasing the underside of his cock, and he made a little gulping noise as one finger pressed inside him. "Oh... David, oh god..."

"I can't believe you're in my bed," Dave muttered. "It's surreal, the way this happened, and I think I'm half-expecting you to turn around and yell _surprise,_ or have it turn out to be one of those epic dreams or something." He added a second finger, giving them a deft twist that had Kurt crying out.

"David." Kurt tried not to grit his teeth. "I think you should stop thinking and put one of those condoms on. Now."

Dave paused, his fingers buried inside Kurt, and rested his cheek against his stomach. "I guess this would be a terrible time to tell you how fucking in love with you I am."

"Worst timing ever," he snapped, his head spinning. _"Please."_

Kurt knew, rationally, just how _much_ bigger Dave's cock was than every other cock he'd encountered before, or even seen in the limited amount of porn he'd ever consumed. After all, he'd just had it in his mouth, had been up close and personal with it. And Dave's fingers weren't small, by any means, and two of them were giving him a respectable amount of stretch. But when Dave slicked himself up and nudged up against Kurt's ass, Kurt really had no idea how he was possibly going to open wide enough to accommodate him without, say, a shoehorn.

"Okay wait wait wait," he chanted, both hands fisting the sheets, "god, just -"

"Yeah." Dave leaned back on his heels with a regretful sigh. "I know. Kind of used to it."

Kurt took a few deep breaths to clear his head, staring up at the ceiling. "Dave, I - okay, look, I'm happy to top, trust me, that would be just fine with me, but... I'm kind of stubborn when I want something, and I'm not giving up on this idea. A little more time, another finger, and -"

But Dave was already reaching for the nightstand. "I'm really glad you're not giving up yet. And if you'll let me, I have something I'd like to try."

The item Dave held up had never been part of Kurt's sex life before, although he had read about it. Upon seeing it, his mind leapt immediately to _oh my god he wants to...?_ He swallowed. "Saran wrap?"

"If you're worried about safe sex, this is easier than a dental dam, and it blocks pretty much everything." Dave was already ripping off a largeish piece and putting some lube on one side. "Feels better this way."

"David, you really want to...?" Kurt couldn't even ask the question _put your tongue in my ass_. Dave put a big hand on his chest, pressing him back down onto the bed, and leaned in to kiss him. Kurt could feel Dave's enormous latex-clad cock against his thigh.

"I really want to," Dave agreed. "Would you let me try? If it freaks you out, we can stop."

Kurt didn't want his nod to be tentative. This particular act wasn't something he'd ever considered wanting before, even in the throes of passion - but, then, likewise, he'd never asked a man to come on his face before, either, so it made sense that he should stay open to new possibilities. But Dave's expression wasn't tentative. He looked like he'd done this before, and he was pretty sure Kurt was going to like it, which was encouraging.

"I trust you," he said softly, spreading his legs wide to let Dave nestle in closer. The Saran wrap felt smooth and cool on his skin. It took him a few moments to sense the heat of Dave's touch against his skin through the plastic film. It wasn't so different than it had been a few moments ago - only this time, it very clearly wasn't Dave's fingers he felt, pressing into him with slick heat.

"Oh my god," he whispered, quivering, "oh my god oh my god."

There was no _too hard_ or _too much_ here. Dave's tongue was ordinary-sized, but it felt all-encompassing. There was no question about needing to have his own hand on his cock; Kurt didn't feel embarrassed or even wonder. He gripped himself and stroked with purpose. It took him about three minutes to come, loudly and messily, around Dave's stroking tongue. And _Dave wasn't stopping._

"David... what are you trying to _do_ to me?"

Dave paused long enough to answer. "Best way I know to loosen you up. Just let me in, baby."

Kurt realized he appreciated the presence of the Saran wrap, because without it, he might have felt anxious about Dave being _there,_ inside him, where smells or sounds might offend him. Although Dave didn't seem offended, _no,_ not in the least. It also seemed astonishing that, even though he'd already come, what Dave was doing still felt good. Indeed, Kurt wasn't keeping track of time, and Dave didn't look like he wanted to stop any time soon, but it didn't seem like very much time had passed before Kurt felt himself getting hard again.

Dave backed away, both hands on Kurt's ass, thumbs holding him apart. Everything in his body, every sensation, every nerve seemed somehow attached to Dave's tongue, and when he stopped, Kurt felt the loss immediately. "Want," he whined, and Dave smiled.

"God, you're beautiful like this." He crept back up between Kurt's legs. "I could have come six different times just now, with my tongue in your ass, but... I wanted to wait, so I could do this. Just... take a deep breath, okay?"

This time, Kurt welcomed the pressure. Dave's tongue was only so long, and there was something he couldn't quite reach with those short, sharp thrusts. Wanting it was making Kurt a little crazy, and he did exactly what Dave suggested. He breathed into the stretch, and when it started to hurt, he said, "Wait - " and Dave did.

"Would it feel - could I touch you?" he asked, one hand ghosting over Kurt's cock.

"Gently," Kurt said, feeling a little apprehensive about being stimulated so soon after coming. But the sensation inside him was overwhelming, and whatever else Dave was adding by stroking him, that was just compounding the need he had to _be filled. _"Okay, keep going."

He felt the pressure again, and he moaned. Dave carefully lifted Kurt's legs up higher, angling his hips as he slid deeper still. "Fuck, you feel so tight... so hot, baby..." He settled his body flush against Kurt's, gazing down at him in wonder. "Okay."

"Okay?" Kurt reached out and laid a hand on Dave's stomach. No, there was no part of him that was _small,_ and right at the moment, it felt like every inch of Dave's entire body was inside Kurt.

"This is where it gets... good."

Kurt had no idea what Dave meant - until he pulled back, just a little, and slowly pushed _in._ Something inside Kurt went _ohhhh._ His hand fell back to his own cock, knocking Dave's careful hand away to grip it firmly.

"Again," he demanded. Dave chuckled. This time, he pulled out a little more. When he pushed _in,_ Kurt felt the _ohhhh_ more keenly. He began to stroke himself. "You - please, don't stop."

"Yeah?" Dave sounded relieved. "You want -"

"Yes, _yes,_ I want, don't stop, you're not hurting me, just _oh god,_ David."

Dave got the point. Kurt had no idea how Dave managed to maintain such self-control, but he set up a steady rhythm of out, in, _ohhhh. _Each time, Kurt thought there was no way it could continue to feel that good - but it did, and eventually he gave up doing anything except begging for more. By the time Dave grabbed his hips and sped up his pace, it had become just one long, drawn-out _ohhhh._

"You feel so good," Dave panted, "and - fuck, I'm close - I love this, so much."

Kurt could feel the tension in Dave's muscles, the way his body went rigid, and he gasped out one final, _"Oh god, yes -"_ to the unbelievable sensation of Dave, coming inside him.

Dave didn't hesitate. He gathered Kurt up in his arms, holding him close, leaving exhausted kisses all over his chest and neck. "Kurt," he said, tenderly, and kissed his lips. Kurt wasn't sure what he expected after the Saran wrap, but the only thing he could taste was Dave, and the faint buttery flavor of popcorn. He closed his eyes, resting against the space under Dave's chin.

"David," he said, hearing his voice come out shaky, "that was - I mean, I'm sure I'll be sore tomorrow, or possibly in a few minutes, but - that felt so..." He bit down on the sob of reaction, because he really didn't want Dave to think he was hurting. Far from it.

"Yeah. I felt the same way." Dave stroked his back with one sweaty hand. "It's funny. You've been part of my fantasies for so long, I don't think I ever expected this day to really come." He kissed him again. "And now that it has, I'm kind of amazed at what I want to do."

Kurt looked up. "What?"

"You really want to know?"

"Please tell me."

"I really want to finish that Scrabble game." He grinned as Kurt laughed. "And... listen to you read me poetry, and... um. Make you breakfast? And do this all over again tomorrow."

Kurt sighed into the solidity of Dave's embrace, imagining the possibility of tomorrow. It didn't seem at all scary. "If you're inviting me to spend the night, I'd better let Adam know I won't be coming home."

"You're definitely invited." Dave eyed him. "Will he tell Berry - uh, Rachel about this?"

"Not if I ask him not to. Is there a reason you don't want her to know?"

Now he looked uneasy. "I don't know. I just think... it's nobody's business but ours, I guess."

Kurt sat up, watching Dave feel around for his discarded clothing, passing Kurt his own shirt and pants. It took him a few minutes to formulate his question while they washed and got dressed, and even then, he moved back into Dave's embrace before asking it. "Are you embarrassed about being with me?"

"What? No!" Dave jerked back, staring at him. "You're kidding, right?"

"I can't think of any other reason why you'd be worried about Rachel finding out."

"Kurt, no. You're... come on, you heard me make a fucking fool of myself earlier. I know I have a tendency to move too fast, and I'm trying not to make the same mistake again. I love... that you're here, and I'm not going to push you to decide that it means anything more than just this, what it is." He brushed the hair off Kurt's face. "I feel like you've already given me everything I asked for."

"David..." Kurt put a hand on Dave's chest, feeling his slow, steady heartbeat. "You made it very clear how you felt about me, and what you expected from me, before I came over here. If I didn't think I could give it an honest try, I wouldn't have called you. We don't have to tell anybody yet if you're not ready, but I'm not going to hide you from my friends."

"Hide me." Dave's face split into the most adorable grin. "Kurt, you can tell anybody you want to tell. I haven't been closeted in years, and you're by far the hottest guy I've ever been with. Trust me, I'm going to want to show you off."

Kurt couldn't hold back any longer; he leaned in and kissed Dave until he was breathless. "That's just how I feel."

They returned to the kitchen and settled back into their places at Dave's table, smiling at one another like they had a private joke. Kurt could feel the ache as his body adjusted to sitting after being filled so completely, but the throbbing sensation was not exactly unpleasant. He wondered how long before he'd want to do it again. _Maybe not tonight,_ he thought, with an all-new awareness of Dave's fingers as he picked up the bag of tiles. _And then again... it wasn't all that late yet._

Dave replenished the tiles on his rack. "I think you were attempting to rally after my crushing RETINA combination."

"Yes, _otarine,_ my ass." Kurt rolled his eyes. "If you play hockey anything like you play Scrabble, I think the other team had better watch out."

"I'm a mediocre player," he said dismissively. "Actually, I'll tell you something I haven't told anybody else. I don't think I'm going to go back. Even after the doctors tell me I'm healed up, I think I'm done with hockey. It's a little cheap to use an injury to get me out of my contract, but I really want to focus on school. You know, move on with my life."

Kurt watched his face closely as he sorted through his tiles. "Hmm."

"What?" Dave wasn't looking back. "It's your move."

"David, don't even bother to try to pretend. I can tell you're not saying everything."

"You always could tell," Dave muttered, his face red. "Come on, you're not forfeiting, are you?"

Kurt glared at him and laid out the tiles to play FOES on the triple word square in the lower right corner. "I don't give up, ever. Tell me."

"Kurt, I..." Dave abruptly pushed his chair out from the table and walked across to stand in front of the sink, looking out the window. After a moment, Kurt joined him. At first he rested his hands on Dave's shoulders, but then he slid his hands around Dave's chest from behind, holding him close and feeling his uneven breathing.

"Please don't be scared," he murmured. "I want to hear it."

Dave sighed. "I told you, I'm trying to go slowly. But it's easier to do in my head, than out here, where... where Kurt Hummel just let me take him to bed."

"Yes, you did that." Kurt placed a kiss in the center of Dave's back. "You just fucked me."

"God," whispered Dave. "I really did."

"And I'm going to want you to do it again, really soon." Judging from the reaction of his body, pressing up against Dave from behind, it might be sooner than later. "Or possibly I'm going to want to do it to you."

"Yeah, I'm definitely all about that." Dave turned around in Kurt's arms to look into his eyes, his mouth firm. "I'm not really thinking this. This is just... my fantasy. I'm not expecting anything from you. But you're here, in New York, ready to start your career, and I'm here now, too. If I don't go back to Detroit, I've got a few years until I graduate. I'm really hoping, if everything works out the way I want it to, that we could spend those years together."

Kurt tried to keep his own breathing even. "I see what you mean about moving slowly."

"I know." Dave rested his cheek on Kurt's forehead. "So let me just hang on to my fantasy, okay? I won't bring it up again."

"No, David, it's okay. I asked, didn't I?" Kurt kissed him, stroking his hand through Dave's short, bristly hair. "Thank you for telling me. I'm not saying we can't have that. I'm just saying let's see how things go."

Kurt watched his face brighten, that hopeful smile returning, and all he could think was, _god, I love that smile._

The popcorn bowl was nearly empty by the time they drew the last tiles from the Scrabble bag. Dave won, but Kurt was proud to note he wasn't too far behind. "I'll teach you the word combinations I learned when I started playing competitively," Dave offered. "You can make some pretty high scores just by knowing what to look for."

While Dave cleaned up the kitchen, Kurt texted Adam. _I'm not coming home tonight._ It wasn't the first time either of them had had other lovers since they broke up, but he couldn't help feeling nervous to see Adam's response.

_Did you read him the poem?_

_Not yet, but I told him about it, and he said he wants to hear it. _He watched Dave rinsing the popcorn bowl, a tight, warm glow inside his chest. _This feels like a big deal._

_Of course it's a big deal, love. You've been waiting for him for years. _

_Maybe,_ he admitted.

_Definitely. And you'll give me all the details tomorrow. Be safe. _

Kurt knew Adam's attitude about safe sex was more relaxed than his was, but as he tucked his phone back into his pants, he wondered if Adam would give him a hard time about going down on Dave without a condom. _It's not HIV I'm thinking about, Kurt,_ he'd probably say,_ it's all the other stuff you could catch. Just because he said he's clean doesn't mean he is._ Kurt knew as well as anyone that somebody could lie about their status.

_But this is David,_ he thought. David, who'd been in love with Kurt since senior year of high school, and who had already admitted to thinking ahead _years_ in their relationship. Who apparently wanted to quit his job and move to New York permanently. Kurt couldn't help his heart skipping a beat or two at the prospect. He'd trusted him then, and he trusted him now.

"All done," said Dave, approaching him with a smile, drying his hands on a dishtowel.

"I love you," Kurt said.

He watched Dave jerk to a halt. "Um..." He laughed uncertainly. "Kurt, you don't have to... wow. That was... unexpected."

Kurt reached out to take Dave's hand. He squeezed it, trying not to feel nervous. "You keep telling me you're afraid of moving too quickly. But this... it's not new." He smiled. "For me, either. You've been in my head for a long time. In my heart. I've been loving you for years, long before it made sense. And now, just... this. This smile." He reached up and touched Dave's face, watching his eyes close in reaction. "I want you to smile like this, all the time."

"It's, um..." Dave cleared his throat, blinking. "My face is gonna hurt, if I smile like this all the time."

"Tough." Kurt kissed him slowly, feeling them both responding, so soon after the last time. "Your muscles will adapt."

Kurt waited while Dave locked the front door and switched off the lights, making their way into the bedroom with anticipation. It was easy to imagine himself making a space for himself here, in this luxurious apartment, and he had to laugh. _Talk about moving fast. _

"I got what I wanted, earlier," he said to Dave, unbuttoning his shirt. Dave went to the closet and found him a hanger. It wasn't even wire. Kurt hung his shirt up next to Dave's on the closet rod, still smiling. "And we've both admitted to... some intense feelings. I think after tonight, we should spend a day apart, to have some time to think about everything. To make sure it all feels okay."

"I can go along with that plan." Dave tipped Kurt's head back, kissing his neck. Kurt shivered at the sensations. "But you don't mind staying tonight? Waking up with me?"

"No, David. I want to be here." Kurt paused, leaning back to look at him. "That's not all you want, is it? I mean, we could just go to sleep, but..." He ran a hand between Dave's thighs, gratified by the hitch in Dave's breath as he pressed against his half-hard cock. Even partially erect, he was a handful.

"_No,"_ Dave responded quickly, "no, I want... you, fucking me. I want that, whenever you're ready."

Kurt moved back a few paces, leaning up against the wall beside the bed. "Would you take off your clothes for me? I want to see you."

Even back in sophomore year, Kurt realized, he'd been hyper-aware of Dave's body. His jab about being chubby hadn't been far off the mark, but it had just been used an excuse to hurt him. It hadn't interfered with Kurt watching him on the field in his football jersey and tight white pants. Now, Dave was broader, rangier, stronger. Just watching him strip off his shirt was enough to make Kurt hard.

"I dreamed about you in high school," he said, watching Dave's mouth part in surprise. "After prom. You looked amazing in your tux."

"You, too," Dave breathed. He eased out of his pants, gripping himself with one hand. The head of his cock protruded from beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, thicker than his own wrist. Kurt let out a whine, quickly stripping off his own pants as Dave sat on the edge of the bed. "Dreaming about you was pretty much a nightly occurrence. I had to stop hating myself before it got pleasant, but... yeah, you were always there." Dave closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head. "I was so ashamed of how I treated you."

"I know. It was really awful... and it was a long time ago. You know I forgave you then." Kurt moved in close, standing beside him, allowing his erection to brush Dave's shoulder. "I wasn't letting myself be honest with you, either. Rejecting you on Valentine's Day... I kicked myself so many times for doing that. I was terrified, and I thought Blaine was it for me, and... oh, god."

Dave had shifted to face him, taking his hips in both hands, and was mouthing Kurt's cock, sucking the head between his lips while he watched Kurt's face. Kurt let his words trail off, breathing hard as Dave applied a little suction.

"You want that inside you?" Kurt murmured, hearing Dave respond with a desperate noise and shift on the bed. "You're going to let me fuck you, David?"

Dave drew his mouth back, and Kurt could see him gripping himself, now fully hard. He nodded, moving back onto the bed. "Yeah, baby. I'm ready. Like this, on my back, so I can see you."

It was beyond hot to see Dave drawing his knees up, opening himself wide as he stroked himself lightly, with one arm propped behind his head. Kurt reached into the nightstand for lube and a condom, all the while watching the colors of the peacock feather flash at him, Dave's incredible body, his smile.

"This... would be a good time to tell me how you feel?"

Dave paused the motion of his hand. "You mean...?"

"Please," Kurt begged. "Tell me."

He saw the smile spread on Dave's face. Then Dave laughed, full and loud and delighted. "God. Come here."

Kurt laid down on top of Dave, settling into his open arms, bringing his face close enough to feel the texture of Dave's cheek against his. He held his breath. Dave's eyes shone.

"I love you, Kurt," he said. "I have for years, and I expect to keep doing it for many more."

Kurt let the words settle inside him, closing his eyes until he felt like he could respond. "And that doesn't scare you?"

"It scares the shit out of me," Dave admitted. "But I don't think I'd be playing hockey if I weren't willing to do scary stuff. I'm scared I'm not good enough for you. I'm scared you'll stop wanting this, and leave. Hell, I'm scared of Blaine showing up and taking you away from me."

"Not going to happen!" he promised. He reached down between Dave's legs to where they were spread for him.

"Adam, then, or anybody. The point is, I'm not letting fear stop me this time. You. I want this, and you, and I'm not going to stop wanting it. I might as well confront it." Dave sucked in a breath as Kurt's fingers found his ass, applying wet pressure. "God, yes..."

Kurt watched the look of bliss spread over Dave's face as he lay back, fingers light and quick on his own cock. _That,_ he thought hungrily, _that look. I want to give David that. _

"You're giving me just what I want." He made himself slick, pausing just a moment before withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with his cock. He knew he wasn't going to have trouble fitting, but Dave didn't seem to think he was too small. On the contrary, he looked a little overcome. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," groaned Dave, "don't stop, that's... Kurt, oh fuck... come on, fuck me, that's it..."

It took less than fifteen seconds to go from careful strokes to gripping Dave's hips and pounding into him. His noises were absolutely delicious. Kurt wasn't sure he'd ever heard anything quite so compelling as the sound of Dave, coming apart beneath him. When he put a little pressure on Dave's thigh, spreading him wider, Dave gave a choking gasp and came all over his own stomach.

"Dave, oh." Kurt bit his lip and ground against Dave, finishing just seconds behind him. He collapsed on Dave's chest, panting. "God... so hot, I can't even tell you how hot that was."

"It's been a while," Dave mumbled, "but I really don't remember sex being that good. Was it always that good?"

"No." Kurt crawled off him, kissing him as he went, and collapsed a second time beside him on the bed. "No, I'm pretty sure it's never been this good before."

"I wonder what that means."

"I think it means we should plan to do it a lot."

"Yeah," Dave agreed. "That sounds like the right answer."

There was no way Kurt was going to go to sleep without at least a wet washcloth wiping off his skin, so while Dave dozed, he managed to stumble to the bathroom. When Kurt came back, Dave was awake again, and he'd cleaned up the wet spot as best as he could. Kurt climbed gratefully back under the covers, into Dave's waiting arms, clutching his notebook.

"It wouldn't feel right if I didn't at least read you some of it," he said apologetically. Dave propped himself up on one elbow, listening, as Kurt blushed his way through reciting his own words, written over the last three years, about Dave. When he was done, Dave descended on him with kisses, so he guessed it wasn't too bad.

"I don't write poetry." Dave fished around on the floor and came up with the same paperback he'd been reading on the L train. "But we've been reading these sonnets in translation in my renaissance lit class, and this one... well." He cleared his throat, smiling at Kurt, and read:

_There are creatures in the world with such other  
__vision that it is protected from the full sun:  
__yet others, because the great light offends them  
__cannot move around until the evening falls:  
__and others with mad desire, that hope  
__perhaps to delight in fire, because it gleams,  
__prove the other power, that which burns:  
__alas, and my place is with these last.  
__I am not strong enough to gaze at the light  
__of that lady, and do not know how to make a screen  
__from shadowy places, or the late hour:  
__yet, with weeping and infirm eyes, my fate  
__leads me to look on her: and well I know  
__I wish to go beyond the fire that burns me._

"That was me, Kurt," he said. "I wanted so much to tell you, for so long, but I wasn't strong enough. I needed to become - me, before I could love you, the way you deserve to be loved."

"And now you're there," Kurt marveled. Dave leaned in and kissed him, turning off the light.

"Now you're _here._ And I'm going to love every minute of it, as long as it lasts."

* * *

_If you're gonna get your heart broke, you better do it just right,  
__It's gotta be raining, and you gotta move your stuff that night,  
__And the only friend you can reach isn't a good friend at all,  
__And you know when he says "Now who dumped who?" that you never should have made that call  
__I had the blessings, there's nobody there, there's nobody home,  
__Yeah the blessings, at the moment I was most alone  
__And aimless as a full-time fool, the joke was on me,  
__I got all those birds flying off of that tree, and that's a blessing_

_And the blessings were like poets that we never find time to know,  
__But when time stopped I found the place where the poets go.  
__And they said, "Here have some coffee, it's straight, black and very old,"  
__And they gave me sticks and rocks and stars and all that I could hold  
__I had the blessings, a moment of peace even when the night ends,  
__Yeah the blessings, can we meet? Can we meet again,  
__At the crossroads of disaster and the imperfect smile,  
__With the angel in the streetlamp that blinks on as I walk on a mile, the blessings_

_And the best ones were the ones I got to keep as I grew strong,  
__And the days that opened up until my whole life could belong,  
__And now I'm getting the answers, when I don't need them anymore,  
__I'm finding the pictures, and I finally know what I kept them for,  
__I remember, I can see them, see them smiling, see them stuck,  
__See them try, I wish them luck and all the blessings_

_I was fast asleep at three in the morning when I got the payphone call,  
__And she said, "Did I wake you up," I said, "Hey, no, not at all."  
__And she said, "I got this suitcase and I don't know what to pack,"  
__And I said, "You can take anything you want, just wait and see,  
__It's not a release, not a reward, it's the blessings,  
__Its the gift of what you notice more,"  
__And I walked out and I watched her kick the big pile of the night,  
__And we sat down and we waited for that strange and empty light.  
__Yeah, the blessings..._

_See them smiling, see them stuck,  
__See them try, I wish them luck and all the blessings._

_- Dar Williams, "The Blessings"_


End file.
